By reason, barren of all future good.

But we have known that there is often found

In mournful thoughts, and always might be found,

A power to virtue friendly; wer't not so,

I am a dreamer among men, indeed

An idle dreamer! 'Tis a common tale,

An ordinary sorrow of man's life,

A tale of silent suffering, hardly clothed
In bodily form.-But, without further bidding,
I will proceed.

"While thus it fared with them,
To whom this Cottage, till those hapless years,
Had been a blessèd home, it was my chance
To travel in a country far remote;

And glad I was, when, halting by yon gate
That leads from the green lane, once more saw
These lofty elm-trees. Long I did not rest:
With many pleasant thoughts I cheered my way
O'er the flat Common. Having reached the door,
I knocked; and when I entered with the hope
Of usual greeting, Margaret looked at me
A little while; then turned her head away
Speechless; and, sitting down upon a chair,

Wept bitterly. I wist not what to do,

Or how to speak to her. Poor Wretch! at last
She rose from off her seat, and then,—O sir!
I cannot tell how she pronounced my name:-
With fervent love, and with a face of grief
Unutterably helpless, and a look

That seemed to cling upon me, she inquired
If I had seen her husband. As she spake,
A strange surprise and fear came to my heart,
Nor had I power to answer ere she told
That he had disappeared-not two months gone.
He left his house; two wretched days had passed,
And on the third, as wistfully she raised
Her head from off her pillow, to look forth,
Like one in trouble, for returning light,
Within her chamber-casement she espied
A folded paper, lying as if placed

To meet her waking eyes. This tremblingly
She opened-found no writing, but therein
Pieces of money carefully enclosed,

Silver and gold-I shuddered at the sight,'

Said Margaret, for I knew it was his hand.

Which placed it there; and, ere that day was ended,

That long and anxious day! I learned from one Sent hither by my husband to impart

The heavy news, that he had joined a troop

Of soldiers, going to a distant land.

-He left me thus he could not gather heart

To take a farewell of me; for he feared

That I should follow with my babes, and sink
Beneath the misery of that wandering life.'

"This tale did Margaret tell with many tears ; And, when she ended, I had little power

To give her comfort, and was glad to take

Such words of hope from her own mouth as served
To cheer us both; but long we had not talked,
Ere we built up a pile of better thoughts,
And with a brighter eye she looked around
As if she had been shedding tears of joy.
We parted. 'Twas the time of early spring;
I left her busy with her garden tools;
And well remember, o'er that fence she looked,
And, while I paced along the footway-path,
Called out, and sent a blessing after me,
With tender cheerfulness, and with a voice
That seemed the very sound of happy thoughts.

66

"I roved o'er many a hill and many a dale,

With my accustomed load in heat and cold,

;

Through many a wood, and many an open ground,

In sunshine and in shade, in wet and fair,